Half Empty Glass
by Runandra
Summary: The missing chapter 29 1/2 of 1001 Nights. Not recommended if you haven't read the 1001 Nights. This story is dedicated for the one year gap since Kuroro and Kurapika's parting in the Kuruta village. Rated M for suggestive writings but not graphic.


_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own HunterxHunter _

_**Author's Note: **__Hey guys, I know some or most of you were disappointed with the lack of explanation on how things turned out to be the way it was in Chapter 30 in 1001 Nights. This instalment is dedicated for the one-year gap between chapter 29 and 30. Hopefully this will provide the much needed explanation, or at least it'll patch up the missing part of the main story. If not, well, then I really am a crappy author. Dang..._

_**WARNING:**__ This piece is rated M for a reason people. There will be *cough cough* something included here. The 'omitted part' that I told you before. Yeah, it's here but it isn't so graphic. If it sucks, well forgive me because I have absolutely zero experience and knowledge in it. Sorry... And you've been warned. So those who are 12, 14, or other under-aged readers, beware!_

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_**HALF EMPTY GLASS**_

_**~ the missing chapter of 1001 Nights ~**_

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"Lucifer, are you fine?"

Kuroro looked up from the thick, dusty book he was holding. Standing before him was Abelard Constantin, the Duke of Cenabum. He was still as cheerful as ever, his countenance always bright and optimistic, his plump body showed how wonderful life was for him. His small, beetle eyes twinkled with what seemed like abundant content towards his life. The air surrounded him only spoke of 'easy life'.

Kuroro gave the Duke one quizzical look, before he turned back to his book. He had gone back to the Duke to continue with his scholarly studies of many things—anything that interested him. At the moment, the Genei Ryodan was on a long break. He had not specified the reason for the 'break', but truthfully he just needed time to readjust to the old routine of his life before Kurapika came and 'messed up' his life.

"What are you talking about, Duke?" He simply asked with flat voice.

"_That_ is exactly what I'm talking about." The Duke raised his eyebrows and pointed the head of his cane towards Kuroro's direction.

For the second time, Kuroro looked up again and gave him a bewildered look. Pushing aside the cane that had been rudely pointed to his face, Kuroro frowned slightly as he shifted in his chair to fully face the Duke.

"Elaboration, Duke?"

The Duke gave a deliberate heavy sigh before he dragged a chair from somewhere else and flopped down into it. He put his cane between his legs and leaned forwards with his hands supported by that cane. He scrutinised Kuroro's stoic face, trying to search for an answer in that cold, expressionless visage but found none. He pulled away with yet another heavy sigh, before he spoke:

"You have changed, Lucifer."

Kuroro's frown deepened.

"How so?"

Abelard Constantin shrugged, but he kept his eyes trained to young man before him.

"For better or for worse, I haven't a clue. Describing it is all I can do for the moment." He simply said with rather resigned voice.

This time, it was Kuroro who leaned forward. The old man's words caught his whole attention. He had changed without him noticing it? That was strange. Usually he was very aware of himself, of his values and believes. When he changed, it only happened because he _decided_ to change. But to involuntarily change? That was interesting.

"Please do," said Kuroro with most eager tone.

The Duke gave him a sympathizing smile—which took Kuroro aback slightly though he never showed it in the exterior.

"Where do I start, hmm?" The old Duke leaned back in his seat and pondered for a while before starting, "First of all, I've known you for years as a quiet person."

Kuroro nodded in agreement.

"But lately, you've become...strangely quiet. It's a difference quietude that you have. A different kind of atmosphere that you give off. It's...simply different. And disturbing, if I may add my personal opinion."

"Disturbing?"

Abelard nodded slowly. "You've become more brooding as well. Dark and melancholic. Immersed in your own world and your own problems. I know you are a thoughtful person, always thinking deeply and meticulously before you say or do something. However, like I said before, the quality of the air around you is different. Also, you seem to have grown distant and apathetic—though I know you are never too mindful about others since the beginning."

"That is a very vague description, Duke." Kuroro gave him a thin smile, unsatisfied by his description.

"Ah..." Abelard raised a plump hand and stroke his moustache thoughtfully. "_Peut-être _(perhaps so). I'm sorry if I'm of no help, young man."

"No, I'm still grateful that you told me that I've changed...somewhat."

Again, Abelard Constantin gave him that sympathising look, as if he pitied Kuroro for some reasons. Kuroro could not help but to ponder about it—was something so terribly wrong with him that it made a stranger like the Duke worry about him? As if he could read Kuroro's mind, Abelard gave him a warm smile for a change; as if reassuring him that everything would be alright despite the situation. He could see the cluelessness on that youthful face.

"_Quoi qu'il en soit _(anyway)..." the Duke said while inhaling deeply in attempt to alleviate the tension, "where is your wife?"

Kuroro's heart skipped a beat, but once again his countenance betrayed nothing of it. He only looked at the Duke with cool face and turned back to his 'work'.

"We live apart." He answered curtly—which was the truth, in a sense. Abelard Constantin only knew Kurapika as his 'wife', and he intended to leave it at that.

"Hmm... But you aren't divorced."

Again, Kuroro stopped doing whatever he was doing to regard the Duke with a raised eyebrow. As if sensing the unspoken 'how do you know?' question, Abelard raised his cane and pointed at his hand—the one that still donned the aquamarine-silver ring in the ring finger. Kuroro's gaze shifted obediently to his ring.

His hand was rested on top of the old table, and the weak evening sunlight fell on top of it, making the aquamarine stone glinted softly. He shifted his hand a bit so that the reflection of the sunlight differed for each different angle. He continued playing with the ring for a few long seconds, before he answered the Duke:

"No, we are not."

And it was a truth. So long as they wore the rings given to them by Isthar, they were always connected. Not to mention that they actually could not part with the rings for the rest of their lives. Then again, Kuroro did leave a part of his Nen within her—which allowed him to sense her presence even from leagues away although only faintly.

The Duke gave a broad smile and then he clapped his hand once very loudly, gaining Kuroro's attention.

"Ah! The first heartfelt words I've heard from you this year!"

With that, the Duke suddenly left the room in hurry as if he suddenly had an urgent matter to attend. He did not even excuse himself. Kuroro stared at his back until he disappeared from his view. Dismissing the notion as one of the old man's whacky antics, Kuroro shrugged and turned back to his book.

However, a few short minutes later the Duke came back to him. In his hand was a glass with liquid inside of it. He placed the glass on the table, right in front of Kuroro. Kuroro looked up and gave the Duke a questioning glance.

"Now, what's this?"

"A half-empty glass," he answered, quick and firm.

"Exactly. It's half-empty. But it can be half-full, as well. No answer is right or wrong. It's a matter of perspective, Lucifer. And sometimes, the same person can give different answers, depending on their moods and circumstances." The Duke sat down again in the seat that he had previously occupied.

Kuroro stared at the Duke with blank, expressionless face.

"So, in your case..." Abelard said again, "Dare I assume, your life is not as fulfilling as you may think it is. Perhaps..." he leaned forwards and looked up at him while ducking his head. "It has something to do with _votre femme _(your wife/woman)?"

Kuroro raised an eyebrow.

"Perhaps you miss her, Lucifer?" Abelard offered again, his voice kind and gentle.

_Perhaps,_ Kuroro thought amusedly, _I have given you too little credit than you actually deserve._

Nonetheless, Kuroro closed his eyes and began recalling the days that he spent with a certain Kuruta. Those were fun days; travelling across the world in search of treasure, learning and experiencing new things, gaining new knowledge. Truthfully, he had never been in such a long, constant companionship before. Two years. He had spent two years with Kurapika's constant presence by his side.

Maybe he did miss her.

* * *

Kurapika pried open her eyes lazily as she felt the warmth of sunlight penetrating into her room, telling her that it was already morning and that she ought to get up and start her day. Automatically, she turned her head to her side and her eyes began searching for something. Only after a few seconds later she became conscious of what she was doing and berated herself for it.

_What on Earth am I doing? Snap out of it, girl!_ She told herself harshly as she got up, her mood already slightly ruined.

Swiftly and deftly she made her bed and afterwards she took a quick, cold shower. She tried not to look at the scars on her hands. Although they served nicely as a reminder on how weak she was, it also inadvertently and inevitably brought back memories concerning a certain raven-haired man. Kurapika scowled at herself.

_It's only half a year and I still have the habits of looking for him whenever I wake up._

It was a habit that had been built up after two years of travelling with Kuroro. Whenever she had woken up during that two years, she always found him within her line of view. Either he was still sleeping next to her (when the bind had yet to be broken) or on the bed next to her bed (after the bind had been broken and they had rented one room). Sometimes, even when they had rented two rooms, she would have woken up finding Kuroro sitting somewhere in the room with a book in his hand.

Oh, she had yelled at him the first time he did that.

"_Do you know of the concept of PRIVACY?"_

"_Does it make a difference? We've been sleeping on the same bed since the start of this whole journey."_

"_Don't say it that way! It sounds so wrong!" _

"_Truth is truth no matter how much you try to alter it." _

"_Aaargh! You are impossible!"_

Kurapika found herself chuckling at the memory. Those were fun days despite the trivial bickering they always had. In fact, that might be their daily source of entertainment. Then, she remembered Fino's outburst the other day.

xXx

It was already the closing time of the Prancing Pony Inn. Two girls were sitting behind the counter desk of the inn. One had her head bent as she worked on the accounting on the inn, while the other one was simply there to accompany the former—and to complain.

"Gosh! Dad's such a slave-driver! Not only that he's been receiving rental fee from you, he actually asks you to do his accounting!" Fino huffed while she crossed her arms defiantly.

"Don't talk bad about your parents, Fino. Besides, this isn't too hard to do. I want to help out anyway I can."

"You just don't accept charity, do you?" Fino remarked unhappily. "Honestly, Kurapika! Me, Dad, and Mom have insisted that you stay here for free and be part of this small family. Why can't you just take it?"

Kurapika looked up from the 'accounting book straight from the bowel of Hell'—as hatefully dubbed by the innkeeper—and laughed softly Fino's pout.

"Well, I guess I'm just not accustomed to being treated nicely. I spent more than four years as vagabond, trying to meet the ends by all legal means that a teenager can do. Then another two years with Kuroro as vagabonds again. This is literally the first time I ever settled down since the tragic end of my tribe."

Kurapika said all those with light voice, as if it was not such a big deal—if no big deal at all. Fino still sulked at him. Then, at the mention of Kuroro, her grand pout disappeared for a bit. She rested her head on top of the wooden counter.

"It sure it quiet without Kuroro around, huh?" She muttered lethargically.

"It's peaceful." Kurapika said flatly and almost too hurriedly.

Fino frowned. She could sense that Kurapika was just doing another of her self-suggesting session—or therapy.

"But it's always fun when there are the two of you."

"Fun? Oh, come on, Fino. We do not get along, in case you have missed out that obvious fact even after watching us for two years. You know he always made a fool out of me, and we always quarrel even for the most trivial of things." Kurapika shook her head slowly while still fixing her gaze to the accounting book.

"And that's precisely why it's fun."

Kurapika tore her focus from the accounting book to mildly glare at Fino.

"You're having fun at my expense, aren't you?"

_Like he always does,_ she irritably thought.

"But you always look like you were having fun, too!" Fino retorted defensively.

Kurapika blinked. Her? Having fun when Kuroro was the one making fun of her? Oh, come on, she was not a masochistic person. Then again...She remembered the time when she had another dream of her deceased brother—the dream she had after she had passed out while blindly and uncontrollably fighting Kuroro after she had first seen her brother's preserved head.

She remembered it vividly, as it was strongly committed to her memory:

Live happily. That is the only thing you can at least do for us. We don't want revenge_, __the figure shook his head slowly._

"_Live happily?" The girl repeated after the ghost of her dead brother. "I have forgotten…how it is to live happily."_

Truly?_For once, the shadowy voice was not as sorrowful but was hopeful. _Look closely, Kairi. There is happiness around you in abundance.

_With that, the faint shadow started to fade away. In alarm, Kurapika reached the grab the ghost of her brother but her hand only clutched empty air and darkness. Pin-drop silence filled her entire being, and she was once again left alone. She stared into the thick darkness._

Happiness in abundance? Where?_She pondered despairingly._

_Images flashed before her eyes: Gon, Killua, Leorio, Senritsu, Bashou._

_Kuroro Lucifer._

"Kurapika?"

The said girl snapped back into reality. She turned to look giddily at Fino, who was staring at her with concerned look plain on her face.

"Are you okay? You've been spacing out." She said slowly.

"I'm...I'm fine."

Fino narrowed her eyes, clearly displeased by Kurapika's blatant lies and avoidance of the topic.

"Liar!" Fino suddenly exclaimed while she jumped to her feet. Her sudden action made Kurapika flinch, but that was all.

"You big liar!" Fino repeated her words as she pointed an accusing finger at Kurapika.

The Kuruta girl blinked in confusion at the younger girl. What was wrong with Fino? Did she say the wrong thing?

"Why can't you be honest with your feelings for once?"

"What feelings?" Kurapika asked, her voice rose slightly in indignation.

"You obviously MISS him!"

Kurapika openly and unceremoniously gawked at Fino.

xXx

Kurapika let out a soft snort.

_I've been in denial, have I? Yes, those were fun days, indeed..._

Once she was done with the shower, she quickly dried and dressed herself. Just as she was descending the staircase, she heard familiar voice coming from the hall of the inn. Stopping in her track, she listened closely to that voice.

_Shalnark..._

Tiptoeing and staying in Zetsu (she had no idea on why she was doing that, but she simply felt that she ought to do that), Kurapika took a peek. She spotted a certain sandy-brown-haired young man talking with Fino. The innkeeper passed by and upon seeing Shalnark, he greeted him warmly as if he was another of his regular customer (which was true) and went on his way. Fino's mother had also come all the way from the kitchen just to say hello to the 'cheerful young man'.

Kurapika then remembered the conversation she had with Fino when she interrogated the girl about Shalnark.

"_Do you know of the Genei Ryodan?"_

"_Yeah, I do. Shalnark told me."_

"_Did he tell you that he is one of them?"_

"_That he did. Oh, and he also told me that Kuroro is one of them, as well."_

"_The leader, actually."_

"_Really? Cool!"_

"_Cool? Fino, do you have the slightest idea on how dangerous they are?"_

"_But Kurapika, you have been travelling with the leader and you are in perfect condition, which means they aren't a bunch of bad guys, right?"_

"_They rob and murder innocents!"_

"_Aww, c'mon Kurapika. Nobody is really innocent in this world."_

"_But—"_

"_Besides, I couldn't care less about the outside world. I've heard enough of the callousness happening in those rich, big cities. The Ryodan operates in rich cities, right? Then our town is safe from them. As long as they do nothing against this hometown of mind, I don't mind."_

Kurapika chuckled to herself. Fino was really something—definitely more than meet the eyes. She had always thought of her as a simple, country bumpkin girl, but she had never expected her to have such mind-boggling concept in her head.

Deciding to let them have their own private time together, Kurapika retreated back to her room. Besides, she had no wish to face any Spiders yet—not even Shalnark. Once she was in the safe haven of her room, she flopped down to her bed and sighed.

Should she go and visit her friends?

* * *

"Hey, Kurapika! Wassup?" Killua greeted her with his usual cheeky grin. He did not bother concealing the surprise he had on his face.

"Just dropping by for some visits. Are you guys busy?" She had said while frowning slightly at the traces of chocolate icing at the corner of his mouth.

Killua had obviously gobbled down yet another whole cake, if she was to make a wild guess. That boy and his sweet tooth. She would not be too surprised if one day she was informed that Killua was diagnosed with severe diabetes. The Zaoldyck boy could just survive on sweets and chocolates alone.

"KURAPIKA!" Gon came and tackled Killua aside, sending him faraway into the corner of the room. There was a very loud crashing sound booming then.

"GON! How many times do I have to tell you to mind your strength? You gotta pay for the repair yourself!" Came Leorio's irritated voice from the apartment.

Soon enough, the tallest of them all had emerged from the deep recess of the apartment. He was a mess—his tie was crooked, his hair was still uncombed, his shirt was wrinkled and partially tucked out. Upon seeing her, though, he graced her with his brightest smile.

"Hey, Kurapika. Come in, will you?"

As he said so, Leorio made way for her and so she entered the apartment. When she passed Leorio, she could catch a whiff of his cologne. Immediately, her mind told her that it was a very different masculine scent than she was accustomed to. Then, she remembered the night when Kuroro had actually _desperately_ tried to save her from freezing to death.

She remembered being held in his arms, both of them half-naked, so that he could transfer some heat into her. She had unconsciously snuggled closer to him, craving for the warmth. She remembered feeling so content and comfortable at that time. Of course she had been mortified when she found out their half-naked state, but soon the mortification had been thrown out of the window as she once again lay in the embrace of his arms. It had felt so right to be in his arms...

"Kurapika, you okay?"

The said girl blinked and noticed Leorio waving his hand in front of her face.

"Yeah?"

"You've been spacing out."

_Again?_

"Kurapika, your face is red!" Gon exclaimed. "Are you having a fever?"

"Huh? No, I..."

Raising one hand and touching her cheek with the tip of her fingers, she could really feel the heat emanating from her face. Embarrassed and flustered, Kurapika only gave an awkward laugh.

"I guess it's the heat. It's so hot outside there."

"Probably..." Leorio muttered, only half-believing her but did not push the issue nonetheless.

Killua, however, was eyeing her with critical eyes. When Leorio had retreated into the kitchen to make something for their guest, and Gon had gone to another part of the apartment, Killua approached her and stood next to her. He had grown up so tall in the last few years that it made Kurapika sulked a bit.

_Boys and their terrifying growth spurt... Good thing that Leorio doesn't grow taller otherwise he'll be a fishing pole or a coconut tree..._

"Hey." Killua elbowed her lightly on the arm. "Missing someone, aren't we?"

Kurapika whipped her head to his direction and regarded him with a thoroughly caught-off-guard look on her face. Killua only snickered and patted her shoulder.

"Don't worry, I'm not telling anyone else." He said reassuringly. "It's just common to miss someone you've been travelling with for so long."

Gon came scurrying towards them while carrying a bunch of chocolates.

"I do miss him whenever I'm off somewhere else alone." Killua said as he looked at Gon with half-kind half-pissed-off look on his face. He leaned closer to Kurapika and whispered: "Though I suspect it's a different 'miss' for you, eh?"

Before Kurapika could whack his head, Killua had dashed towards Gon's direction and yelled:

"OY, GON! THOSE ARE MY CHOCOLATES!"

* * *

_Missing someone, aren't we?_

That was the first thing that came mockingly to her mind—Killua's words—when she first saw him again after one year of separation. He was still the same, no change whatsoever appearance-wise. It was as if he lived in perpetual youth, unchanging and untouched by the hands of time. He still looked like a boyish debonair with his hair down, forehead covered in bandana, and donning a formal attire. His countenance looked as calm as the surface of an ocean as ever. Kurapika had to keep a straight face with efforts.

She really did miss him. Now that the person was right before her, only then she realised how much she had missed him. Though she would never admit it out loud.

_Perhaps you miss her, Lucifer?_

Kuroro grimaced at the recollection of Duke Abelard Constantin's words.

_No, _he told himself. _It's not 'perhaps'. It's 'evidently'._

He looked at her overall appearance briefly though rather indiscreetly. There had been only slight change with her; her now past-the-shoulder length golden hair. Other than that, she was still the Kurapika he knew. Even the air of wariness around her was still of the same quality as the one he was familiar about. He had the strong urge to approach her and twiddle with those golden strands of hair of hers, like he usually did whenever he was bored and whenever she allowed him to do so. However, he reined that urge, sensing that it was not the most appropriate time _yet_.

"What do you want now?" She then barked at him, trying to sound rude and wary but he could detect the forcefulness in it. Being a master of acting, he knew that she was not being sincere.

He raised an eyebrow, quizzical about her attitude. He then remembered the Zaoldyck boy's words:

"_Y'know. Just a small little thing that may interest you. She's been claiming that she's married this past one year as an excuse to get away from some guys." Killua had whispered to him in the auction hall with a degree of mischief. _

"_How coincidental. I've been doing that as well." Kuroro had absentmindedly thought out loud._

He suppressed a smirk and instead responded as airily as he could: "That is not the nice way of greeting your 'husband'."

Her reaction had not been visible, but he could clearly see that she had turned frigid and though her face was kept strictly straight, he could see the blaze in those eyes. They were practically saying: _Killua, the next time you see me you are oh so dead._

Amusing as it was, apparently Kuroro was more interested in studying Kurapika than sympathising with Killua's soon-to-be-torturous meeting time with the said girl. After commenting about her hair and twiddling with it for a few moment, they started their routine activity: arguing. He even entertained her odd game of wits and _something else _he could not really pinpoint—but had not bothered about finding it out.

He really missed this routine. Arguing with her was always a load of fun, especially when he was winning it and when it ticked her off.

However, when Kurapika admitted that she turned Leorio down although the good doctor-in-training was a very decent candidate to be her boyfriend, Kuroro felt an unfamiliar sense of relief in his heart—a kind of anticipated relief. He knew it was bound to happen that way for some reason, but still he found himself asking her why she had turned him down.

He even asked absentmindedly: "Then do you have someone in mind?" To earn your love, that is.

When Kurapika had slipped out the "yes" answer, his heart skipped a beat. He had urged her to answer, but she would not answer for the life of hers. When Kurapika threw her chains at him, he got distracted from the topic as he noticed something odd about her chains and Nen.

"Something is missing from your chain." He said, which was true. And it bothered him.

As she finished divulging the loss of her Nen blade, he could see the look of utter defeat and shame in her face. It was ironic, in his opinion. The last time, she had robbed him of his Nen using that very same Nen-blade-imbued Judgment Chain. Presently, she was the one who lost her Nen blade because she had finally decided not to hunt down the Spiders anymore.

_Life is indeed full of irony..._ Kuroro mused to himself.

But exactly because he had undergone the same situation, he knew exactly what she was feeling at that moment.

Nevertheless, he did not know of what to do regarding the circumstances. Comfort her? How? He was never one to comfort someone who was mourning for their losses, because usually it was him who inflicted the sense of loss—either by murder or by theft. After a period of awkward silence that ensued, Kurapika finally seemed to have gotten back her control of herself and decided to confront him.

"Now what?" She demanded.

The question triggered yet another recollection of words by another person:

_Distreaza-te cu__ 'sotia' ta. __(have fun with your 'wife'),_ Lucian had said before he flee from the room.

Something sparked within him and apparently it showed in his eyes, for Kurapika looked stunned shocked for a moment. He had been pondering over it: after he had taken her from Nostrad, what would happen afterwards? Technically, she had been dead and her body was taken into his custody—dead or not—so she was his. He had his plans for her.

As he advanced towards her, she retreated from him in retrospect. Her reaction gave a sense of queer thrill within him. She had never acted so afraid of him, like he was a dangerous predator.

When Kurapika finally asked "As what would I stay by your side?" indirectly, he had not answered right away. Truthfully, he did not know how to answer. He just simply wanted her to be there. Be with him. Not as anything, but as herself. As Kurapika Kuruta. However, knowing Kurapika and her no-nonsense and all-logics-and-reasons personality, he assumed that she would not be satisfied with that only true answer he had.

So he made an excuse.

He made a condition wherein she had to pay for her freedom from him, and he made it hard for her. Yet another miscalculation: he did not expect her to choose her hefty-priced freedom.

Then again, subconsciously he might be—no, he WAS—craving for her as well. After all, bodily he was a human. A man. And so he had his own human needs—despite being a Kuroro Lucifer, despite being the head of the infamous Genei Ryodan, despite being brought up by a medusa, despite having a fallen Goddess' blood in his system.

He wanted her.

Yet still he gave her the choice to give the final decision. He would not force her.

Still she consented, though in the most indirect way.

So, being who he was—Kuroro Lucifer, the opportunistic leader of Genei Ryodan and a true citizen of the Ryuusei-gai—he took whatever was offered to him.

The moment their lips covered each other earnestly and eagerly, Kuroro knew that she had no desire to resist him in any ways—which pleased him immensely.

He looked at her eyes; which had turned bright scarlet. Kuroro admired those eyes; they were the most beautiful he had ever seen; and would always be the best ones. Especially right at that moment, they shone with an emotion that for once was not hatred or loathe. They gleamed with an unfamiliar emotion, but it pleased him. Kuroro could not resist his urge to upturn his lips. He was definitely the winner in their long battle.

As Kurapika put no resistance whatsoever, he ventured further. When his tongue touched hers, she twitched and gasped, but again she put no effort to stop him. Instead, it seemed that her body gained another consciousness and acted on its own; or more accurately, acted based on its instinct. She responded to his kiss with equal fervency. Abandoning logic, Kuroro let his own instinct take over as well.

They were not sure how they got undressed, but it appeared as if it just _happened_.

_For once… _Kuroro told himself.

He broke their kiss and she gasped lightly at the very moment their lips parted. He took his time to look into her eyes; into those captivating scarlet orbs that she alone possessed. He had always wondered, since the day he massacred the Kuruta tribe for their eyes, how to produce the most mystifying hue of scarlet on those rare eyes. No matter how he tried, he could not achieve the result he wanted. They were all disappointment, and so he grew tired of them fast, but hers never even once tired him. The myriads of emotions swirling in those majestic scarlet, they were his masterpiece. He was the one who made her who she was, from the beginning starting from that massacre up until that very time. She was his masterpiece.

She had no idea, of course, that it was rare for Kuruta people to get their eyes burning grandly in scarlet just because of emotions such as fondness or love.

_For once I will be selfish…_

Kurapika gazed into the endless abyss of his dark eyes. They sucked her in, and never letting go of her. She hated them because they held the magic that she could not escape from even when she wanted to. Yet she loved them as well—since when she knew not—because they never lied to her and she came to comprehend their language; the one that only she understood.

She reached out to cup his face in her hands, and she planted soft kisses on his eyes. He leaned forward to her touches; savouring them, relishing them. It was rare for her to initiate any skin touch, and here she was running her hands over his bare skin, her lips brushing feather-lightly against his skin.

…_and claim this one thing for myself alone._

His lips brushed lightly over hers again, and then her chin, and then further down to her neck. All the while, his right hand did its work accordingly. Her skin was so delicate, so smooth; so _virgin_. He licked the skin above her jugular vein. Kurapika shuddered when his lips touched the sensitive part of her neck, but she did not push him away. Kuroro smiled at her positive reaction. He proceeded down to her clavicle and lingered there.

_Only this…_

He nibbled at her collarbone and she gasped in reaction. It was an alien feeling for her, and she was not prepared for it. Nevertheless, she did not shun away from it. Her body arched as she immersed herself in the tingling sensation that lately would assault her now and then whenever he touched her, her body closely pressed against his. She curled her arms around his neck, drawing him closer to her. He most willingly wedged his body against her smaller form, as he planted light kisses around her neck and on the sensitive spots at the base of her ears.

…_that I will never share with anyone else._

For her part, with Kuroro invading her senses and personal space, she could contain herself; her suppressed desire, no more. Kurapika, denying it vehemently she had been doing, had actually longed for him; to touch him, to feel her flesh intermingling with his. In this one opportunity; when there was nobody else to witness her 'sins', the floodgate of her desire broke down. She then left her own instinct; as Kuroro did, to take over her mind and body, tossing away her pride for that moment of bliss.

For his part, he did not give a fig about self-control or pride. He was just following his basic instinct that craved for her. He remembered his words to Kurapika long time ago: _I'm a human first, a Spider second._ That statement could not be held truer than it was for that moment. Not when his human need was screaming at him to be fulfilled.

When Kuroro finally entered inside her, the pain seared her entire body. She could feel the heat reaching her face, burning it crimson. She gasped and whimpered, yet not a single tiny bead of tears was shed as she pressed shut her eyelids in attempt to endure the pain. The physical pain she had endured during the Mammon incident had desensitised her from any physical pain.

When she twisted and writhed underneath him, she always reminded him of a butterfly. A butterfly that fluttered her wings desperately, trying to escape the clutch of the spider that held her captive. In nature, they were part of a great nature system called the food chain. She was the prey, he was the predator. He trapped her in his fine silk webs, injected her with lethal poison that immobilised her, before he devoured her whole.

Kurapika whimpered as he went deeper inside her. She dug her fingernails into his flesh, heightening his awareness.

He was, however, a very much different Spider. He did not rush to her; he approached her slowly, the spider patronising and familiarising himself with the butterfly first. Slowly but surely, they walked together side-by-side. He poisoned her with his charm and kindness. He immobilised her with his gentleman persona. He dared to swear, however, that they were not insincere.

He buried his face into the mop of her golden hair. He inhaled her fragrance, memorising it. Her passionate breath brushed his ears and neck, caressing him with unearthly pleasure.

Yet, here he found himself being trapped by the butterfly, which had wormed her way into his heart. Strangely enough, the butterfly herself did not seem to realise that. Although all these was pioneered by the bind that Hassammunin put on them and it was not his intention in the beginning, he still had to admit that overtime, after knowing so much—too much—about her, he was addicted to her. Her strength, her intelligence, her stubbornness, her emotions, her childishness, her maturity, her weakness, her tears; her entire being. He wanted her, he craved for her; physically and mentally. He did not know when it started, but by the time he realised it, that longing had already taken a deep root inside him. It was too strong to be pushed away.

All he could do was to give in to it.

And at the same time, the same applied to Kurapika as well.

* * *

The curtain had not entirely covered the window, and so a few rays of moonlight managed to penetrate into the dark room. The scarce moonlight fell on top of the milky skin of a certain sleeping girl, casting a glowing pearly texture on her exposed shoulder and upper arm as she was sleeping on her side. She once more had had one of the most content sleeps—if not the best one—since the nightmarish day of her tribe's massacre. She had been so deep in her undisturbed sleep that she failed to realise that her companion had been up for quite a while. In fact, he might not have slept for a wink, even.

Kuroro Lucifer was fully clothed, and he was standing by the bedside of the bed that was occupied only by Kurapika. The whole scene was already foretelling bad premonition for both of them—and inevitably worse for Kurapika.

Kuroro looked at Kurapika's sleeping figure with what might be described as torn expression. And Kuroro Lucifer rarely ever donned such expression—only when things were really out of his favour. Presently, the circumstance was as such.

He took out the Solomon Ring and eyed it most critically. The runes that adorned the body of the ring had to be of some meanings, and he had yet to find out those meanings. Such was the reason of his study in Abelard Constantin's place, until he was suddenly summoned to Ryuusei-gai by Hatsubaba. As far as his study of it was concerned, he had drawn one conclusion: the ring was definitely dangerous. No, it was beyond dangerous.

One of the reasons had been its obvious power to summon and tame demons, but it was not the only reason. In Kuroro's opinion, its living malevolence was most dangerous. It was a poison—the demons within it whispering dark, tempting thoughts to the bearer of the ring, persuading whomever was holding them to use the ring for great deeds. When the bearer was weak in will and hearts, he might fall prey to those demons and eventually he would get destroyed, taking his surroundings with him. For the worst part, those tricky demons worked in the most underhanded, cunningly subtle way. In the end, it would be the before-he-knew-it-everything-had-already-happened kind of situation.

He had a vague idea on why it was kept in Ishtar's custody, hidden from the real world. Being a former Goddess, Ishtar was able to exercise a tremendous amount of self-control and thus the ring would not be able to ever overwhelm her absolute resolution, dropping the chance of the ring triggering an Armageddon down to almost zero. He did virtually hear those voices, but had disregarded them coldly.

Kuroro knew that he was not one with weak hearts or will, but there lay one hole on his steel will—Kurapika. With the Solomon Ring in his possession, Kurapika's presence alone already posed a degree of danger for both of them. Kuroro was well aware that if anything could shake his resolution or made him out of control, it would be anything concerning the Kuruta girl—the instant extermination of the Mammon was more than enough a proof.

He was going to study the ring and those demons. For that reason, he had to leave her. That was for the best.

As for the ring itself...

Kuroro narrowed his eyes in deep thought. He sat down on the edge of the bed most carefully and reached down to trace Kurapika's jaw line. She stirred slightly but her sleep remained undisturbed. For a few seconds he let his mind go blank, free from all burdens and thoughts, as he scrutinised Kurapika's features. His body muscles relaxed a bit after the tension built up while he was pondering about the Solomon Ring. A thought then crossed his mind.

He would part with the Solomon Ring as well.

It might be the last memento from Isthar; his surrogate mother, before she departed from this material world, but still it was a malevolently dangerous item. The Ishtar he knew would not object if he had decided on staying away from the ring for the time being—not when he had a good reason for it. He would not venture into such precarious ground until he had the full knowledge of the demons and the ring itself. Scheherazade once blatantly hinted that once he was declared the ring's master by the ring itself, he would possess the complete knowledge of the ring. However, that knowledge lay on the subconscious level only. He simply could sense it. He needed to study that knowledge on the conscious level—he had to be fully aware of it and make use of it to his advantage.

Even with his absence, he knew by heart—through the knowledge bequeathed upon him by the ring—that the ring would not choose another master as long as he was alive and so it could not be utilised by anyone else except for him. It was the best safety plan he could think of at the moment. When he deemed himself ready to wear the ring and be its master without the fear of being controlled by the ring itself, he would come back for the ring. Until then, the ring would have to put up with his absence.

With a new resolution, Kuroro took out the ring from his finger. He stood up and put it on the table. He was going to entrust it in Kurapika's care. He knew she would take a good care of liabilities entrusted to her custody—she always did. Besides, there was one good nature of the ring that he was going to exploit—its innate protective ability.

It had escaped Kuroro's understanding and sharp mind that by lending the ring to Kurapika, he would involuntarily promise her that he would come back to her. If he was to come back for the ring, it was the same as he would have to come back to her. As this understanding eluded him, at the same time it worked in fate's favour.

After quickly making a note—one which irritatingly explained nothing of his departure and his reasoning for 'lending' the ring to her—he left the ring and the note on the table. He also remembered to put the paper bag containing her tribal outfits on the table. Earlier the Spiders had good-naturedly salvaged them from Nostrad mansion as they looted the place, and had delivered them to the 'haunted' house of Valence-en-Brie.

_That is very generous of them,_ he thought; pleased by his Spiders' initiative, positive response to Kurapika's circumstances.

Eyeing the room for the last time, he made a mental check that everything was in order. Casing one final glance to Kurapika—no farewell kiss whatsoever lest it would crumble his resolution—Kuroro turned around and walked away towards the door. He did not look back, not even sparing a hesitant last glance.

When Kuroro closed the bedroom door behind his back, however, at the same time he inadvertently closed the door of his heart.

* * *

"Aah... Lutetia, the city of romance and love. How fitting for a reunion between the two of them." Lucian sighed as he gazed longingly at the moon hanging on the dark starry night sky through his half-filled wine glass.

Being a vampire, he had the time in the world to count the number of the stars. However, he had a more irritating thought that preoccupied most of his minds.

"But why does it have to end in yet another irony?" He whispered to nobody in particular. Or maybe he was talking to Ishtar's deceased spirit, who might wander the world for all he knew. Who knows? He might just be getting carried away in the flow of things revolving around Kuroro.

_The irony of their relationship... When Kuroro is being honest and open to Kurapika about his feelings and fondness for her, she doesn't dare yet to reciprocate it, much less express it. But when she's ready and most willing to accept and embrace him, he decides to withdraw._

Another sigh came from the centuries-old vampire as he stared at his half-filled or half-empty bottle, depending of the perspective. With a small smile, he stared at it for a while before he poured himself more wine.

_Fully-filled is definitely better than half-empty, eh, Lucifer?_

_

* * *

_

_**Author's Note: **__This is to make up for the not-so-good chapter 1001 Nights, notably Chapter 30 – The 1001__st__ Night. Lots of reviewers keep complaining about the lack of explanation and narration how the dynamics between Kuroro and Kurapika have taken a drastic turn, so here I go. Though at first it's reserved for the sequel, but oh well... Take note that this is my first time ever writing 'that kind of scene' so if it isn't up to your standard, well, don't send too many flames to me. Be considerate, yo. I'm an Asian, and quite the conservative type. You can send me suggestions of what I can write for 'that kind of scene', but don't criticise me too much that your words break my heart, ok? If you want more, well...You gotta use your imagination this time =P Don't forget to REVIEW, people! _


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